The Man of Mystery
by mispatch
Summary: "It was him and he was finally back"..."my Angel." Based on a scene from 'The Phantom of the Opera'. Darcy/Loki, AU Phantom of the Opera.


As Darcy sat at her vanity, she felt a strange sensation inside of her. It was _him_ and he was finally back.

_Darcy Lewis._

His voice echoed within her mind and Darcy closed her eyes, smiling. He had been gone for so long and now he had returned. Darcy placed two hands on the vanity and slowly stood.

_Turn around, my Angel._

Darcy turned around to face the full length mirror. She peered at her reflection, looking intently at herself. The white floor-length dressing gown that she wore contrasted with the dark curls of hair cascading down her shoulders. Step by step, she moved closer to the mirror, seeing her reflection grow larger and larger...and that's when she saw him.

_My Angel._

Darcy felt it deep within her soul, _this_ was the man of her dreams...the one who would invade her thoughts at night, slipping in silently and dispersing at dawn. It was as if half his face was hidden in the shadows. His features were hidden, but his _eyes...oh his eyes_! A chill ran down her spine as Darcy stared into his piercing eyes. One was the shade of a rich emerald, and the other was an intense deep red. Her soul was caught and Darcy couldn't escape from his invisible grasp.

She wanted to see him...feel him..._closer_. Her feet lead her towards the mirror, and her arms started to rise. If only she could get past the mirror, past this _barrier_...

The mirror seemed as if it were melting away, slipping into the depths of the Asgardian Opera House. Flowers, tables, walls and ceilings were distorted as the mirror curved and twisted, disappearing while leaving behind an empty void. Her own body looked as if it were coiling away, surrendering to the reflective constraints. Darcy watched the man in the mirror...he continued his intense fixation on her but his body failed to morph into the imaginary grotesque shapes that acted upon Darcy's own reflection. His body and his _eyes _remained completely _real_.

Darcy took one last step and her hands were now just in reach of the threshold. The last remaining elements of the diminishing mirror faded to the ground and behind it, the man stood tall. An invisible force pulled her towards the man, and the closer she stepped, the more Darcy could see. The look of his pallor skin, pronounced facial structure, and his wildly fierce eyes were hidden by an alabaster half-mask, covering his face. Darcy's subconscious said to flee, but her body...her body said _come to me...my Angel._

Darcy raised her hand in the slightest bit, raising it above this unknown man's long fingers. She met the palm of his hand with the tips of her fingers and Darcy felt a physical jolt in her heart. It was as if a current passed through both of their bodies, ignited by the magnetic connection. The impact started straight from her fingertips, travelling to her torso, up her spine and down her legs. Darcy's heart pulsed in her chest...strong, steady..._stimulating_.

As her heart pounded in her chest, the man led her through the tunnel behind the mirror. The walls and floor were stone and emitted a biting chill through her thin dressing gown. Were it not for the candles perched along the stone walls, they would have been surrounded in utter darkness.

The man picked up a lantern, holding it delicately in his right hand while he secured Darcy in his left. They continued their brisk pace as they travelled lower and lower throughout the maze. All she could hear was their echoing footsteps and a mysterious gentle hum. The end of the hallway was soon interrupted by a spiraling stone staircase, heading downwards into the darkness. He continued to lead her down the winding stairs, glancing backwards every so often.

They reached the bottom of the winding staircase and their footsteps seemed to echo more. The stone floor was slightly damp, so Darcy lifted her gown slightly off the ground. The air started to change as he pulled Darcy down the pathway.

He looked backwards once more, and this time his gaze lingered just a second longer. Darcy felt his gentle grip on her hand and it seemed to contradict his fierce expression. His one green eye and one red eye seemed so vivid, even in the darkness. Darcy wanted to see more...to see what was beneath the stark white mask that covered everything but his red eye and part of his mouth.

_Who was he, this man of mystery?_

"Tell me," Darcy asked. "Who are you?"

He didn't respond and simply glanced her way. Quickly, he tore his gaze away and looked forwards towards their destination. Darcy spoke again.

"Are you my Angel of Music?"

She wanted to hear it for herself, straight from his lips. The man that had captured her soul by speaking to her in her dreams.

He turned around again at Darcy's words and stopped them both. The cryptic labyrinth mattered no more as the man stood just inches from Darcy's face. He looked directly into her soft brown eyes.

"I am Loki...The Phantom of the Opera."

Darcy's mouth parted slightly as the Phantom gauged her reaction. Perhaps he was pleased, or perhaps he was less than satisfied...but he took a step away from Darcy and pulled her to the dark water's edge.

Darcy couldn't focus on the change of surroundings as she recalled the image of the Phantom's close proximity. His pale skin, and mismatched eyes...all hidden behind the beautiful, fragile mask. As Darcy thought of his eyes, she couldn't help but to linger on his one red eye. The skin around his red eye seemed to be...blue. A soft grey-blue colour. However, the opposing unexposed skin on his face was a pale and...almost translucent. Was it the trick of the light? Was it really _blue_?

They met the edge of the solid ground and he turned to face Darcy. The blackness of the Loki's hair seemed to blend into the unlit tunnel ahead of them as the length fell at his chin.

He waved a hand and the lantern disappeared. Just as it faded away, the light source reappeared at the small vessel at the edge of the water. The Phantom gestured with his free hand to the boat, nodding his head at Darcy.

Darcy took both of his hands in hers and gingerly took a step into the boat. She had anticipated that the boat would be unstable beneath her feet, but it felt just as solid as if it were on the ground. Loki's gentle touch guided her expertly and she sat on the soft floor of the boat. The interior was layered with dark fabrics and intricate Asgardian designs fit for a King.

Darcy turned to face the Phantom as he stood behind her, looking out to the impending darkness. His eyes shifted downwards and met Darcy's. A slight, mischievous grin crossed his lips. The colour of Loki's lips were also...strange. It was as if he had attempted to kiss the winter air, but had been bitten instead.

Loki snapped his fingers and the boat started to gently rock in the water. It was free of the sturdy binds, and they travelled forwards into the tunnel. Loki's hand remained raised, as if guiding the mystical vessel.

_Is this magic?_ Darcy asked herself. _Is this a dream?_

Darcy turned her upper body towards the tunnel, her eyes darting to capture any source of light. She gripped on with both hands onto the sides of the wavering vessel. The air had changed as a ghostly mist crept up upon the boat.

As Loki took them both deeper and deeper through the depths of the water, a voice emerged, calling to Darcy in her mind.

_Beware of the Phantom! From his lair in the depths of the dungeons, he watches upon us all. None have seen him, but his presence is always known. _

Jane's delicate speech cautioned Darcy of the frightening tales. The stories had been fables as children, but now they were true.

_He's there_. _He's always there. _

Jane's voice faded from her mind as a faint light appeared at what seemed to be the end of the tunnel. As they travelled closer and closer, small flickers of light started to appear above the water. They were candles, set high on elaborate candelabras.

The sparks of light grew larger in number the further they travelled. It seemed now as if hundreds of flames littered the air and the emitting light was now able to illuminate the scene in front of them.

Darcy's jaw dropped as she took in the sight. It was a secret hideaway, beautifully furnished with what looked to be antique pieces. A set of stairs led to an open landing up high. Couches, end tables, and cabinets were completed with hanging drapes flickering in silver threads. A tremendous spanning bookshelf displayed books upon an entire wall, and beside it sat a dazzling black organ.

The vessel made its way to the edge of the raised platform and stopped with a gentle bump. Within seconds, Loki had used his magic to secure the boat and stepped out, opening both his palms to Darcy. She rose steadily and placed her hands in his, allowing him to guide her way onto the land.

He pulled her towards the foot of the stairs and turned to face Darcy, looking deep into her eyes. Loki raised his hand and tenderly pushed back the curls from around her face behind her ear. They continued up the stairs and Darcy raised the hem of her gown so as not to trip. As Darcy took a quick look down from the railing, a rush of adrenaline flowed through her veins as she saw the distance below. She could see the entire lower level now and all the furnishings seemed small and insignificant.

They reached the top of the stairs and Darcy looked upon the tables in the otherwise empty landing. Fabrics in shades of white, cream and silver in lace and silk lay across the tables. The fabrics seemed so familiar...Darcy looked down and realized the gown she was wearing were the same fabrics and shades as the pieces on the table.

Loki led her towards the edge of the landing and Darcy held on to the railing. Loki stood beside and slightly behind her, his soft breath tickling her cheek. As both of Loki's hands moved to rest on her waist, he spoke in her ear,

"Sing, my Angel of Music."

Darcy's hands started to tremble. She could feed the chill of Loki's hands through the thin dressing gown. She turned to look upon the vast space, fully aware of Loki's attention behind her. The mystifying water shimmered by the flickering candles, and the jagged stone walls stretched high above her.

Darcy opened her mouth and let her voice carry. A pressure started to build from the depths of her body, but she continued on. For her Angel.

"Sing, Darcy!"

Darcy pushed her breath through her lungs, singing from her very soul. She obliged the Phantom, giving him everything that she had to give. Darcy's voice echoed by the distant walls, piercing the air with her strength.

"Sing for _me_!"

Darcy sang her fullest, letting her voice soar above them. The pressure in her body grew and grew, constricting her insides. Darcy sang for Loki, pushing past the restraint within her. She sang, and sang. The Phantom's lair had never heard such _life _as her voice carried to the most hidden corners of the lair.

The pressure became too much for Darcy. Her voice ceased to create sound and Darcy couldn't breathe. She couldn't _breathe_.

Darcy's muscles could not hold her any longer and her vision faded to black. The last thing she could feel was Loki's strong hold gather around her body.

"_My Angel."_

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed, I absolutely adore 'The Phantom of the Opera' and it seemed to fit so perfectly. Until next time! Cheers!


End file.
